


To Accept as a Fact or Truth

by harper_m



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-28
Updated: 2009-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harper_m/pseuds/harper_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily and Katie have the past and Emily and Naomi have the future. When they're drunk, the lines blur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Accept as a Fact or Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Contains twincest

Their parents had taken James to the countryside. They told Emily it was for the purposes of cultural enrichment and told Katie it was to give her enough time to talk some sense into her sister, and so as soon as the door closes behind them, the twins look at one another and sigh for entirely different reasons.

“So don’t be gay then,” Katie murmurs dryly, rolling her eyes at Emily’s shocked, confused look. “It’s why they’ve gone off and left us alone for the weekend, unless you believed that bollocks about expanding James’ worldview.”

Emily had actually been rather pleased at the notion that someone was going to attempt to provide James with an educational experience, which makes the whole charade even more disappointing.

“Well, I’ve told you. Are you less gay now?”

Emily pauses for a moment, soaks in the disappointment that her brother is going to continue on as a monumental wanker, and then looks down as if she’s cataloguing all of her body parts and checking for differences. “No. I’m still remarkably gay.”

“Yet still not at all witty.”

When all she gets is an irritated glare, Katie sighs. “Whatever. My failure here is complete, but we’ve still got the house to ourselves for the night. Let’s throw a party?”

“A party?” Emily seems to visibly shudder. “No.”

Katie throws her hands up in the air, disgusted. “Do you know what this is?” she asks, waving her hands around vaguely. “It’s you, sucking all of the fun out of the room.”

Emily can’t help rolling her eyes, and it’s such a Naomi move that Katie barely restrains herself from flipping off her sister. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Katie waits for a moment, but Emily doesn’t say anything further, so she sighs, because fine, she’ll draw it out of her one boring fucking word at a time. “Well, what then?”

“I’ll invite Naomi round and we can all get massively drunk and the two of you can stop being absolute bitches to one another.”

Katie thinks she’d rather poke her own eye out with a fork, and tells Emily as much.

******

It’s only because she’s so fucking bored, she tells herself. It’s only because Bristol has turned in on itself like a black hole, and there’s no one to be found and nothing to do, because it’s not as if she’d do this for Emily’s sake or anything.

“Well, call the stupid cow and tell her to bring a bottle of something strong, then,” she says with a huff, stomping into their shared room and glaring at Emily. She rolls her eyes at the way her sister almost fucking vibrates with excitement in response, determined to be reluctant and bitchy about her acquiescence even if Emily is being all fucking adorable; she’s long since moved past the phase where she finds Emily’s dorkiness anything other than excruciatingly embarrassing, but she still can’t help the smile that creeps across her face.

The moment’s ruined when the doorbell rings and Emily looks up at her guiltily. “That’ll be her.”

Katie frowns, because she’s not sure if Naomi is here because she’s that bloody predictable, which really she isn’t, or if it’s because she suspects Emily was planning to skive off with her if Katie didn’t come around, leaving Katie alone. Which, okay… maybe that hurts her feelings a little, but it’s not as if she’d really wanted to spend the evening with her sister and her cunt girlfriend.

They find Naomi on the porch, shifting from foot to foot nervously. She looks absolutely fucking miserable, but there’s a bottle of vodka in her hand, so Katie decides to wait a few minutes before dipping into her stockpile of spiteful, hateful comments. It’s hard, because Naomi’s outfit is an absolute fucking disaster, but Katie’s pretty sure she can convince her to take off the truly offensive blazer.

“I’ll take your coat,” she says, because Emily’s already liberated the bottle of vodka.

Naomi scowls at her, all surly when she says, “I’m not wearing a coat.”

“Well, you’re wearing some sort of fucking monstrosity, so I’ll take that. Unless you want me to go ahead and ruin the evening right now by using my brilliant fucking wit to make you, like, cry like a little bitch.”

Emily finds them in a standoff, and Katie can’t help but laugh at how absolutely fucking whipped Naomi is, because one look at Emily’s hopeful face, and she’s shrugging out of the blazer. Katie takes it between her thumb and forefinger, holding it as far from her as she can, before finally just tossing it in the general direction of the sofa.

She gets a little gleeful at the prospect that Naomi’s going to lose her fucking mind, because the blonde is looking at her with murderous intent but it’s clear that she can’t do anything, not with Emily’s hopeful look slowly turning into a pout. “We should start drinking now,” Naomi finally says, the words barely making it past tightly gritted teeth.

Katie finds herself agreeing wholeheartedly.

******

Katie pulls the tabs of ecstasy out of her emergency stockpile, because if ever there was an occasion that called for being barely conscious of her surroundings, it’s this.

******

It’s almost an hour later, and Emily’s the first one who says anything, of course, because Emily’s a fucking perv.

“I’m just saying, I would get to see what it looks like.”

Both Katie and Naomi are staring at her with looks of mixed revulsion and horror, but she’s got her mind set on making this point definitively. “Haven’t you ever wondered what you look like when you snog someone?”

Katie scoffs, then rolls her eyes. “Why would I care what I look like? It’s what I feel that’s important. And I wouldn’t feel very happy, would I, snogging your fucking girlfriend.”

Naomi, violently uncomfortable, mutters, “Or you two could just snog one another and I could take photos, and then you’d both know.”

The suggestion is met with blank looks from both sisters, and it takes Naomi a few minutes to realize she’d really been hoping for a lot more visibly displayed disgust.

******

When she stumbles back in from her trip to the loo, Katie’s got her head in Emily’s lap. Emily is slowly running her fingers through Katie’s hair, and Katie’s got her eyes closed like she’s fucking ecstatic about it. They’re not talking. It’s one of those perfect silences, actually, where the absence of words is far more effective than words could ever be, and she feels oddly like she’s intruding on something private. She begins to wonder if, before college, the Fitch twins were always like this when alone together. If, before Katie lost her mind over being the most popular girl at school, she was actually somehow normal. After all, the banter she’s observed throughout the evening has been acerbic but underlined with a tone that’s undeniably loving, and the way they touch each other so casually is foreign to her, an only child, but clearly quite natural for them.

Relaxed as they are, both in shorts and a tee shirt, and with Katie’s hair not curled, they look ridiculously alike, and for a moment, she finds herself completely disconcerted by the thought.

“We should play a game,” Emily says suddenly, and Naomi wonders how long she’s been standing there and how long they’ve known she was standing there, just staring at them like some sort of nutter.

Katie looks up at Emily, but she’s too lazy and too relaxed to make it into a proper glare. “I don’t want to play any stupid games.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Why do we have to do anything? Nobody drew up a fucking itinerary.”

Naomi tends to agree with Katie, and for once isn’t even chagrined by it.

Emily does have the energy to offer a proper glare. “Then we should just sit here not talking for the rest of the night? Yeah, that’s fun.”

“I’ve been nice to your girlfriend,” Katie says, and Emily’s proud of the way she gets the word out without wincing, “and she’s been nice to me. Maybe it’s time to call it a night, and you two can fuck off to do whatever it is you do together.”

“You know what we do,” Emily shoots back because she’s tired of Katie’s shit and, after their fight at the Love Ball, just so less willing to put up with it; Naomi flashes her an angry look, because the last thing she wants is for Katie to put any sort of thought whatsoever into what she and Emily might or might not be doing because, well… She just doesn’t.

“Well, if it’s up to you, then yeah.” Naomi is startled when Katie focuses on her, her face oddly, darkly sardonic. “She’s got a box full of fannies, you know,” Katie confides, then scoffs. “I imagine before you, she wanked to them. Does that make sense to you?”

Not quite sure how to answer that, Naomi remains quiet. “I mean,” Katie continues, swatting away Emily’s hand when she tries to cover her mouth, “she’s got one of her own. She could just look at it in the mirror. Anyway, for fuck’s sake, if she’s wanking to thoughts of getting her hands on a nice, wet twat, then she’s already accomplished her purpose all in one. What’s the use for pictures at that point?”

Naomi feels an odd compulsion to stand up for her girlfriend, and so she says, “I imagine the purpose…”

“I know the bloody purpose,” Katie interrupts with a frown, then rolls her eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

The alcohol has blunted Naomi just enough so that she’s only mildly irritated when she asks, “Is it a Fitch family trait to always be thinking about sex?”

Emily’s given up on her half-hearted attempt to silence her sister, and so gives the question unnecessary thought. “No, I think Dad’s usually thinking about fitness. I don’t know if Mum thinks about anything. James, though, is a complete and utter pervert. He watches us in the bath.”

“Through the key hole,” Katie adds, just in case Naomi is inclined to misinterpret, to think they somehow allow him to do it. “And then usually Emily finds him and, like, beats the shit out of him. He’s going to be incredibly fucked up one day. Can you even imagine what kind of psychosexual bullshit that’s creating, sneaking around so he can watch his sisters naked coupled with regular physical violence? That’s like creepy levels of fucked up. Like, he’ll have to solicit his sex partners off of creepy German websites when he grows up fucked up.”

Katie completely ignores Emily’s half-mocking, “Psychosexual?”

“Do you want to see the box of fannies?” she asks Naomi instead. “We can see if any of the models look like you. Won’t that be fun?”

Emily groans. “Jesus, Katie.”

“What? I bet they do.”

“Maybe we _should_ play a game,” Naomi says flatly, then takes a swig of vodka straight from the bottle.

******

Katie determines that they’ve reached emergency status again, and returns to her stash.

******

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t at least put a little effort into it.”

Katie’s standing in front of her closet, pulling out various items of clothing and holding them up for inspection.

“Not everyone looks good in leopard print,” Naomi offers with lazy sarcasm. “I daresay that includes even you. Maybe you should try putting a little _less_ effort into it.”

“Because clearly I’m going to take fashion advice from a girl who dresses like a colourblind pensioner.”

“She does have a point, Katie. You’re beautiful like you are. There’s no need to tart it up. Just be yourself.”

“And what if myself happens to be a whore wrapped up in leopard print?”

Naomi laughs, genuinely amused and unable to help it.

“Don’t worry,” Emily says, sotto voce, eyes focused on Katie and mouth twitching as she tries to hold back a smile. “She may have shit taste in guys, but I’m fairly certain she’s never actually been paid for it.”

“ _I_ have shit taste in guys?”

It’s the one thing certain to throw the evening into a downward spiral. “Don’t start with that,” Emily says, trying to keep the mood upbeat though there’s a hint of pleading in her tone.

“Fine then. You get your girlfriend to try this on so I can see if she looks halfway decent when she’s not dressed like a bag lady, and I won’t talk about the most disgusting thing to happen this century.” There’s a frown on Katie’s face after she says it, as if she’s only just aware that she’s admitted that her sister’s relationship with Naomi actually isn’t the absolute worst thing to ever happen, but whatever. She’s already kind of accepted it, and Emily knows it.

“Absolutely not,” Naomi says, appalled, eyeing the short red dress Katie’s holding out as if it might spring to life and bite her.

Katie’s reply is to sigh deeply, mouth opening to follow with something Emily is sure she doesn’t want to hear.

“Just do it,” Emily urges, and Naomi manages to hold out for two full seconds in the face of her half smile and the way her voice goes scratchy.

******

“You realize I’m substantially taller than both of you,” she calls out before stepping almost shyly back into the room. She’d spent a few minutes in front of the mirror in the bathroom, tugging the hem this way and that and readjusting various parts of herself and the dress in an attempt to get it all working together in a halfway decent way, but she still feels utterly ridiculous.

“Oh, wow,” Emily says, and she sounds as overwhelmed with lust as she looks.

For a moment, Naomi thinks the expression on Katie’s face is inscrutable. When she figures out it’s actually maybe something like appreciation, she doesn’t know what to do.

“I’m taking this off,” she mutters, and backs out of the room much more quickly than she’d entered it.

******

Half an hour later, Emily has that glint in her eye that lets Naomi know she’s about to say something highly inappropriate again.

“What happens,” she says, starting a conversation in the middle, “is that I snog her first and then you snog her.”

For a long moment, Katie manages to be completely oblivious to the fact that Emily’s suggestion is directed at her. When she clues in to it, prompted by Emily’s expectant look and Naomi’s panicked one, she narrows her eyes, glares at her sister, and offers a belligerent, “What?”

“So that we’ll know,” Emily says, and her expression is painfully earnest. She’s nodding her head, eyes wide open and innocent, like she’s begging her sister to understand. “Haven’t you ever wondered if we snog alike, too?”

It’s clear from the expression on Katie’s face that it’s clearly something she’s never considered. “You just want her to tell you that you’re better at it than me,” she snorts, then rolls her eyes. “Like that’s fair at all.”

“Naomi can be impartial. Can’t you Naomi?”

Naomi doesn’t say anything, mainly because she’s sure that if she stays silent, Emily will forget all about this in just a few seconds and move on to something else.

“Her?” The way Katie says it is almost offensive, like she’s the most corrupt judge of imagined snogging contests to be found in the greater UK.

“She’s very fair like that.”

Naomi almost nods along with Emily’s pronouncement, because it sounds like a defense of her character. She remembers, fortunately soon enough to stop any such agreement, that any sort of participation by her in this outrageousness will only somehow egg it on.

Meanwhile, Katie is frowning. “Well, there’s no way to tell, is there? The only way we’d know she’s fair is if I win, and I can’t imagine you’d be too happy about that. Do you really want to know your girlfriend would rather be snogging me?”

“The point is to see if we’re the same.”

Unswayed by Emily’s logic, Katie points out triumphantly, “If we’re not the same, then we’re different, and if we’re different, then one of us is better than the other. And, if one of us is better than the other, then she’d have to admit it, and that one who’s best would be me but she’d lie, obviously, because you, not me, are the one who’s licking…”

“Stop!” Naomi can’t help the hint of panic that’s infused her voice, but she sees Katie’s line of reasoning heading to dangerous places. “I declare you both equally good.”

The twins turn in unison, both of them looking at her as if she’s gone daft. “That’s ridiculous,” Emily says, sharing a look with Katie that only seems to confirm what she’s already thinking. “Unless you’ve been carrying on a secret affair with Katie, which I somehow doubt, then how would you have sufficient evidence to support your conclusion?”

They’ve been drinking steadily, all three of them, which is why Naomi is convinced that neither of the twins should be as logical about this ridiculously illogical argument as they are.

Katie decides to end it, for which Naomi feels grudgingly grateful. “Whatever,” she says dismissively, arching a brow at Emily. “I bet she’s shit at it anyway and I’m not pathetic enough to just, like, pretend like she isn’t spectacularly horrible like you do.”

******

When they finish the bottle of vodka, Emily starts to make noises about breaking into their parents’ wine collection, but she doesn’t actually peel herself up off the floor and do anything about it. “ _Whatever_ ,” Katie says, because it isn’t as if they aren’t fucked up enough already.

******

It’s surreal, sitting in the same room with Katie and pretending like the other girl didn’t make her life absolutely fucking miserable for so long, and that it wasn’t Emily’s fault that Katie felt like she had cause to do so. She’d been sure she was going to hate Katie forever, if only because she was probably the most annoying, most shallow, most ridiculous bitch in the entire universe, but sitting with her back propped against Emily’s bed and watching Katie poke her sister in the side repeatedly, grinning evilly and all around reverting back to the behavior of an annoying 8 year old sibling, she realizes she just doesn’t. It’s not that she likes her. She doesn’t. She still thinks she’s mostly utterly useless, but lately she’s started to think about what happens after college, and how that sort of freedom finally lets people let go of the past and just grow the fuck up. And it’s going to be rough for Katie, she knows, because Katie’s spent so much time and energy trying, and really kind of failing, to claw her way to the top of the heap in their small, insulated little world, and it’s all going to stop mattering with such unbelievable suddenness that Katie might never recover.

Or maybe she’ll actually turn into someone tolerable.

The poking has edged over into tickling, and it’s almost adorable, the way Emily is giggling and pushing at her sister and Katie is smirking and looking almost devilish and being entirely too aggressive. Soon they’re a wiggling, squirming mass on the floor, because Emily had toppled straight over under Katie’s attack. The room is filled with loud laughter, and Naomi can’t help the soft smile on her face, though it freezes slightly when Katie scrambles up on top of Emily, straddling her hips and staring down triumphantly, hands wrapped around each of Emily’s wrists as she fends off a counterattack.

“Just say it,” Katie says, her body loose enough to ride out the way Emily is bucking underneath her. She doesn’t even sway from her perch, and Naomi swallows because it’s so fucking wrong, but she can’t stop staring. “Say that I’ve won.”

Emily clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head, and her eyes just kind of sparkle.

“Say it,” Katie warns, leaning down so that she’s hovering over Emily, and Naomi feels a sort of tightness in her throat she doesn’t entirely understand. “You know what happens if you don’t.”

Emily grins cockily, almost recklessly. “Never,” she declares, then dissolves into another fit of giggles when Katie’s fingers find her sides again.

******

Emily’s face is still a little red because she’d laughed herself into breathlessness, but the effect it gives is that she’s blushing when she says, “It’s not like you have to like it. I’m just curious.”

Naomi’s confused for a minute, because it’s out of fucking nowhere and it doesn’t even make sense, but Katie groans like she knows what it means, and so Naomi doesn’t ask.

“Christ, she’s not going to quit,” Katie grumbles, and Naomi is surprised to see that the other girl is dangerously close to her. “We do this and she shuts up about it.”

It hits her just what Emily’s talking about and just what Katie’s intentions are when she feels Katie’s fingers tangle into her hair and hold on hard. She’s just got time to issue half a protest before Katie’s lips are on hers, hard and hot and it’s got to be the drugs, she thinks, because it’s absolutely not happening at all.

“There,” Katie says, pulling away. She’s left Naomi in complete shock, her hair mussed and a hint of errant lip gloss overlapping her lips unevenly. Her mouth is open, eyes wide, and she can’t quit looking at Katie.

Katie just looks back at her impassively, then shrugs one shoulder, brushing it off.

“Katie,” Naomi can hear the pout in Emily’s voice, and when she turns to look at her, her girlfriend looks oddly disappointed, “you can’t do it like that. You have to mean it, or it doesn’t count.”

Katie just rolls her eyes, then says snidely, “You can’t make up rules.”

“You’re both out of your mind,” Naomi says, half confused and half annoyed, dividing her attention between Emily and Katie. “Why would you do that and why would you even want to see it?”

“Oh, great,” Katie mutters, then shoots a dark look at Emily. “Do you see what you’ve done? Now there are going to be hysterics.”

“It’s not hysterical to react rationally to the insanity surrounding you,” Naomi snits, then turns to Emily with a look of mixed confusion and anger. “You honestly want to watch me snog your sister?”

Emily’s gone shy. She doesn’t answer, which seems like an answer in itself.

“You really want that?” Naomi presses, now serious.

“Of course she wants that.” Katie says it with a laugh. “Don’t you know her at all?”

Naomi knows she’s let her anger get the better of her, that she’s about to do one of those things that she’ll regret later, when everything is calm again. But, they’re fucked up, so thinking clearly isn’t necessarily an option. Besides, she’s actually on the verge of livid, and she hates that she doesn’t know what’s going on in Emily’s mind. She hates even more that Katie clearly does, though it makes sense, of course, since they’ve shared almost everything even back to when they were in the womb. But Katie is so smug about it, smug about everything, really, and she latches on to the idea that this might be an opportunity to teach the other girl some twisted kind of lesson.

“Okay, then. Fine.”

It’s a less than graceful concession. She notes that Katie’s looking at her like she’s fucking mad, but she didn’t start this. She didn’t make any attempt to further it along or assist it in any way, so of the three of them, she figures she’s the only one who has any sort of claim to moral superiority.

She’s always been passionate about proving points, and this one she’s for fucking certain she’s going to prove with a vengeance. She’s going to make Katie moan like she’s fucking getting off on it, and she’s going to make Emily regret that she ever proposed such absurdity in the first place, and then things are going to return to normal and she’s never, ever going to accept an invitation to spend time alone with Emily _and_ Katie ever again.

She’s so angry that she can’t help that the kiss is hard, almost bruising, but now that she’s got a purpose, she can think with a little more clarity and it comes to her that this is the sort of thing Katie’s used to. She’s never not had a tosser for a boyfriend, and she’s fairly certain none of them ever knew what the fuck they were doing. They were all probably like this, awkward and obvious, and so she deliberately pulls in her anger and softens the kiss.

She can almost feel Katie’s confusion, and she realizes with discomfort that, yes, it’s Katie she’s kissing. And she’s surprised, because Katie’s lips are soft. It makes sense, because as detestable as Katie can be, it’s not like she’s actually really some sort of monster, so of course she’d have soft lips. And of course her hair would be soft under Naomi’s fingers, and of course she’d smell like something sweet. Something sweet and familiar, and it takes Naomi a second to realize that it’s the same way Emily smells, the soap they obviously share altered ever so slightly by whatever it is that’s unique to Katie’s skin.

 _Alright then_ , she thinks, pleased with herself because Katie’s started to lean into her, and she realizes with some surprise that there are hands fisted in the front of her shirt. And that makes it even better, because all those months Katie called her a lez, but it’s Katie who seems to shiver a little when Naomi brushes the other girl’s bottom lip with her tongue. She reminds herself that it’s because of the drugs and the booze and because she’s proving a very important point as she twines her fingers into Katie’s hair, deepening the kiss. She’s got her mouth open now, and if this was happening for any other reason than the ones she just listed, then this is the point where it would all start to get serious, because Katie’s just climbed up onto her lap and wrapped her legs around Naomi’s waist.

She’s about to push Katie away with an arrogant, “ _There_.” She’s about to see her point made clear, and all of the things she knows are going to happen, Emily’s regret and Katie chagrin, are just seconds away from happening when she feels something brush against one of the hands she has buried in Katie’s hair.

Katie’s pulled away from her almost violently, and there’s a sudden gasp as she draws in air, and Naomi notices that Emily is now somehow right beside them. It’s time for all of those things she’s envisioned happening, and she might not even have to say anything, because the look on Emily’s face is unfamiliar but she guesses it might be fury.

It comes as a surprise, then, when Emily pulls Katie toward her. She’s still perched on Naomi’s lap, but it’s like Naomi’s seeing double because Emily is kissing Katie as if she’s dying for her, and Katie’s kissing her right back. She thinks it has to be shock, because she can’t bring herself to say anything. She can’t even move.

It’s Katie who pulls away, panting. Her lips are red and swollen. They’re shiny, and Naomi can’t help staring at them, because there’s probably a strange mix of herself and Emily there, and the fact that she had to add the second name to that list makes her mind go blank, like an endless expanse of Arctic tundra.

“We agreed,” Katie says, and her voice is low and rough and she sounds too much like Emily for Naomi’s comfort. They’re lost in their own little world, and for a moment Naomi wonders if they even remember she’s still there. “We’re not doing this anymore.”

And then Naomi’s brain catches up to the words, and her eyes widen. “Anymore?” she echoes, her own voice a bit strangled.

They turn to look at her, and Emily is chagrined, just like Naomi imagined she would be, but probably, now, for an entirely different reason. Katie looks vaguely murderous, and Naomi feels a hand on her chin, the grip hard.

“You don’t tell anyone,” Katie says fiercely, and there’s a frightening intensity in her eyes. “You have to swear it.”

Naomi thinks, _Who_ _would I tell and what would I tell them?_ , because she’s not even sure she understands what’s happening herself.

“Swear it.” Katie hisses out the demand. Her eyes have narrowed threateningly, and it’s not that Naomi’s scared. She’s really just more confused and overwhelmed, because it’s something so big that Katie seems ready to inflict damage over, and her mind can only manage to focus on one thing.

“You’ve… you’ve…”

It seems so incomprehensible that she can’t even bring herself to say it, because honestly? Really? This is really a thing that’s happened?

“We were younger,” Emily says, and her voice is half defiant and half pleading with Naomi to understand. “It doesn’t count when you’re younger.”

Naomi wants to point out that it counts no matter how young you are, but the thought of Katie and Emily together in that way is so absurd that she can only laugh.

“All that time,” she says, the words broken by chuckles, as she stares at Katie in amazement. “All that time you made my life miserable. You made Emily’s life miserable. You were a homophobic cunt and you didn’t care who you hurt, and it was what? Hypocritical, obviously. Shame? Was that it? Jealousy?”

The last accusation sends a spark of something through Katie’s eyes, and Naomi feels her laughter die in her throat.

“Christ,” she says, the word choked. “Is that what it was? Jealousy?”

It’s Emily’s voice, soothing and cool, that answers. “Naomi, don’t.”

“No.” She’s not even sure what she’s protesting. She just is. “No. I want to see. I want to see it. I want to see what it is that you’ve agreed to not do any more. I want you to show me, Katie, so I can understand why you were such an intolerable bitch, why you felt you had any kind of right to make my life so fucking miserable.”

Katie scoffs, and it sends a wave of rage through her. “No you don’t.”

“I think I do.” Naomi’s voice has gone high-pitched, and it hits her that Katie is still straddling her and Emily is so close that she can feel the heat of her body. She confused and she’s angry, because Katie made her miserable for so long and Emily let her, and behind it all there was _this_. And she loves Emily. She does. She’s made it past all of the things that made it impossible to love her, but there’s still _this_ , and she thinks that what she’s feeling looks ugly, like vengeance. “Do you really want me to keep your secret?”

Katie’s glare is answer enough, but it’s accompanied by Emily’s soft, “Yes.”

“Then show me. Come on. I want to see. Fucking _show me_.”

The twins share a look. Naomi can’t read the conversation they’re having. It’s all in the eyes and in little gestures, a nod or shake of the head, the tiniest quirk of an eyebrow.

“Fine.” It’s Emily who answers, their decision apparently made. “But, you can’t just watch.”

“What?” she questions, shocked.

Emily seems to scowl, something about her look expectant. “I’m not going to do it without you. Not _now_.”

It’s the emphasis on the last word that gets her, some sort of acknowledgement that Emily’s not going to let this happen without it being _Emily &Naomi_, but only because it _is_ different now. It _is_ Emily and Naomi, and she ignores the part of her that thinks, _Oh_ , and suddenly and uncomfortably understands maybe a little too much why Katie had acted the way she did and why Emily had let her.

She looks over at Katie, but the other girl’s face is a blank slate.

“You don’t understand, when you’re younger,” Katie says cryptically, but Naomi doesn’t ask for clarification. She’s never particularly thought of Katie as having layers before, but now that she does, Naomi’s not quite sure she wants to peel them back.

Katie pushes back off of Naomi until she’s stretched out onto the floor in front of her, her legs still loosely splayed around the blonde’s waist. She looks utterly bored by the whole thing, and Naomi remembers her anger.

“Come on, then,” Katie says to Emily. Naomi can’t look away from her eyes, from the swirl of emotions she now sees there. It’s the first time the other girl has actually seemed real, like something more than a simulacrum of things she’s put together to create what she thinks other people want to see. It’s the moment when she realizes that she should stop this.

Katie’s face disappears from view when Emily climbs over her, straddling her in a position that reverses the one they were in before, when Katie was flush with triumph and Emily was staring up at her with fondness. Emily turns to look at her, only her profile visible over the curve of her shoulder, like she’s giving her one last chance to stop this from happening, and Naomi swallows hard. She feels the word _stop_ filling her brain, but she can’t seem to force herself to actually say it.

It starts with another kiss. Emily braces her forearms against the floor and her hair tumbles down over her shoulder, so Naomi can’t see much. She can hear them, though, and it sounds like a succession of soft, wet kisses that start out gentle and slowly grow into more. From her position behind them, she can see Katie’s hands come up, both palms flat against the plane of Emily’s back. They move up and down lazily, like there’s all the time in the world to do what they’re doing, and it’s not at all what she was expecting.

She can’t quite take it anymore, and she remembers what Emily had said earlier. They were going to do this together, and so she pushes up to her knees and crawls forward so that she’s just behind Emily. She can feel Katie’s thighs pressing against the inside of her knees, and she feels like she’s intruding again, because Katie’s hands freeze at the touch, her fingers flexing into Emily’s back.

She wants to lean forward, to kiss the bits of skin visible between strands of Emily’s hair, but she’s not quite tall enough to do it without toppling them both over, so she contents herself with running her hands down Emily’s thighs. Emily jumps at the touch, jerking up with a gasp, but Katie’s still mostly invisible beneath her. She can tell by the way Emily keeps her head arched back that Katie’s pressing kisses along her neck, and when Emily’s head falls to the side to give Katie better access, Naomi finally sees her.

Katie’s got her eyes closed. Naomi’s seen her with boyfriends, and when she’s with them it’s typical Katie in that it’s always too much. She tries too hard, the little Lolita with sloppy kisses that are more for show than anything else, because she wants people to look at her, to see who she’s managed to snag, because the thing that matters most about the boys she’s with is that they’re fit and that other girls want them. The kisses she’s pressing into Emily’s skin are nothing like that. They’re fervent and needy. Katie _means_ them.

Naomi feels a stab of camaraderie and almost laughs, because she knows what that’s like – to desperately want, even to love, someone you know you shouldn’t.

The thought flutters away when she realizes that Katie has managed to pull Emily’s tee shirt halfway up her back. It’s become a sort of Pavlovian response, that her mouth begins to water the more of Emily’s skin is revealed. Emily sits up just enough to help, and Naomi grabs the hem of the shirt and whips it over her head. She takes advantage of her position then, sweeping long red hair over Emily’s shoulder, and her mouth finds soft skin. She sighs softly, because this, at least, is familiar.

She startles slightly when Emily’s body jerks forward involuntarily. She opens her eyes in confusion, teeth biting down involuntarily, and Emily jerks again. The moment of confusion clears when she realizes that Katie has managed to unclasp Emily’s bra. Her hands are on Emily’s breasts, and the dual sensations have caused Emily to arch out like a bow. Both of Emily’s arms have snaked around behind her head. It’s a bit awkward, but then her fingers twine into Naomi’s hair, pulling hard and using her as an anchor. Then it’s not awkward at all, and Naomi knows she’s left a mark on Emily’s neck, but she can’t be expected to keep herself in check in such situations.

It’s a bit of a shock to hear Emily’s moan, the hoarse, “Oh, fuck. _Katie_. Fuck yes.” It’s not that she’s forgotten about Katie, but it’s usually her name on Emily’s lips. And it’s the way that Emily’s muscles tighten before she shudders slightly, the moves so painfully familiar that she knows without looking just what’s happened. She focuses, thinks she can hear it, maybe, the way Katie’s fingers are surely moving against Emily’s skin. The only thing she can feel is Emily’s reactions to it, the way her fingers tighten rhythmically in Naomi’s hair and the way her body begins to move, hips rocking toward Katie. It’s like a dance, because she’s swaying along with Emily, but she needs more than that. She needs to see it.

It isn’t necessarily graceful when she detaches herself from Emily’s grasp, and the way the other girl falls forward, palm planted hard against the floor beside Katie’s head now that she no longer has Naomi to support her doesn’t exactly help her in her cause. She still can’t see anything more than shadows, though it’s clear, now, that Katie’s hand has slipped into Emily’s shorts.

Naomi makes a sound of frustration. It echoes through the room, and her cheeks color slightly in embarrassment when she hears it but it works insomuch as Emily looks over at her. Her face is flushed, and strands of sweat soaked hair are clinging to her neck and forehead. Her eyes are bright but uncomprehending; she knows that something is wrong, but she doesn’t have the ability to puzzle it out.

“What?” Katie asks, annoyed, her voice muffled.

Naomi feels her embarrassment deepen even before she says it, but seems to have no control over the words. “I can’t see.”

Comprehension flashes in Emily’s eyes, for which Naomi is grateful. Her brows furrow for a moment before a smile breaks across her face, and then she flattens herself out over Katie and rolls them both to the side. She somehow manages to end up on her back, Katie now on top of her, and there’s another silent conversation before Katie seems to understand what’s required of her. She shifts off of Emily so that she’s on the floor beside her, resting on her side with one hand propping up her head.

“Well, then,” Katie says, shooting Naomi a look that clearly conveys disdain, “you go over there.”

It only takes her a second to figure it out, and then she’s stretched out on the floor opposite Katie, with Emily there in between them. Emily’s reached down, is pulling frantically at her little shorts, and when Naomi reaches down to help her, she realizes that she can see Katie’s hand working under the fabric. As she pulls the shorts off, the sight is revealed to her in full, and she catches her breath. It’s almost too much, because Katie’s using compact, efficient movements, and Emily’s straining up toward her. Naomi can smell the mix of sex and sweat in the air now, and it’s familiar. She can’t keep her hands off of Emily. They flit up to her breasts and then down to her stomach, and she’s not quite sure where to put them and what to do.

“Kiss her,” Emily urges, one hand now behind Naomi’s head, guiding her toward Katie. It’s not what she’d been planning on, but Emily sounds almost desperate and it makes her want to do anything the other girl asks of her. “God, just do it.”

Katie meets her halfway, and Naomi thinks that maybe it makes her want to do anything Emily asks as well.

She doesn’t mean to kiss Katie the way she does, with all of the fervor and sloppy excitement she’d usually be directing toward Emily. It’s just that she knows Emily is close, can tell from the way she’s making helpless noises, the breathy, questioning exhalations that always let her know that Emily’s on the verge of coming. This is the way she kisses her then, like she’s been infected with what Emily’s feeling. Only it isn’t Emily this time. It’s Katie, and Katie’s kissing her back with the same sort of recklessness. It’s just as infectious, especially when Katie starts to make those little noises as well. And then, _fuck_ , but Emily’s fingers tighten in her hair and she lets out a hoarse, barely audible shout, and Naomi knows exactly what that means.

She realizes she’s making desperate noises, too, the sounds swallowed up by Katie, and Emily is shivering helplessly between them.

Half a minute later, it all carries over into a flurry of movement. Naomi’s nearly frantic with it, and she can’t seem to stop kissing Katie. Emily’s not between them anymore, slipping away from them somehow, and she’s up on her knees and so is Katie, and the other girl’s arms are over her head, and Naomi nearly chokes them both as she jerks Katie’s tee over her head. They have to part but slam back together, and Naomi’s still vaguely aware that this is Katie, but she just can’t stop. It makes sense to her, in an odd sort of way, because she’s been here before. There are times when Emily teases her past the point of rational thought and so she knows this place, where she’s operating on nothing but instinct and a drive she can’t escape.

Her hands are sliding down toward Katie’s breasts when the other girl bites down hard on her lower lip, and she pulls back, about to protest, but she’s taller than Katie and so her vantage lets her see clearly what’s happened. She doesn’t know how Emily got Katie out of her shorts, but now she’s flat on her back with her head between Katie’s spread thighs. Naomi can hear the sounds she’s making, low and satisfied, and she finds she can’t tear her eyes away. Katie’s hands find her shoulders, digging in as she struggles to retain balance, and Naomi reaches forward blindly, unthinkingly. She thinks that maybe she meant to wrap her hand around the back of Katie’s neck, but somehow her fingers end up in the vicinity of her lips instead, and suddenly Katie’s sucking hard on two of her fingers.

It startles her so much she looks up. Katie’s eyes are closed and she looks like she’s about to explode with bliss. Her lips are wrapped tightly around Naomi’s fingers. Her cheeks are hollowed slightly, and Naomi can feel the suction and the roughness of Katie’s tongue as she licks without pattern. It’s almost an unconscious action, and when her head moves slightly, her lips sliding down to the place where Naomi’s fingers meet her palm before pulling back, Naomi groans loudly, brokenly.

She’s caught between the two of them, eyes flicking down to where Emily is, her eyes closed as her tongue moves, and then back up to Katie.

She thinks her heart might explode, it’s beating so fast.

Given that her lip still stings from where Katie dug her teeth into it, she realizes dimly that it shouldn’t be a surprise when those teeth dig into her fingers. She knows, instinctively, that there will be distinctive, teeth shaped bruises there tomorrow. She knows, too, that her shoulders will be decorated with matching sets of nail marks, but she doesn’t care, because Katie’s eyes have flown open and she’s looking at her helplessly even as her body convulses.

She pulls her fingers free and replaces them with her lips.

She’s almost startled when she feels hands at the waistband of her jeans, undoing the button. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s Emily behind her, tugging hard at the reluctant fabric, and she can’t believe she’s still wearing her clothes. It seems like she shouldn’t be, that it should be ridiculous that she’s just now having to help Emily push her jeans away. Katie gets in on the action, and soon she’s naked. There’s a hand at her chin, pulling her away from Katie, and then she’s kissing Emily and she can taste Katie on her. The knowledge shouldn’t make her shiver, but it does.

She figures that Emily is the only one of them who’s managed to reclaim rational thought, because her voice is cool when she murmurs, “Lay back, Katie.”

Katie had been on the verge of collapse anyway, so it’s no big task for her. She sinks back into the carpet with a sigh. One of her legs slides between Naomi’s thighs, and she reaches up, lazily cupping the blonde’s breasts. Her touch is gentle and unfocused, but Naomi leans into it. She’s surprised when Emily plasters herself against her from behind, reaching around and catching one of Katie’s hands in hers. She tugs firmly, and Katie looks confused for a moment before catching sight of Emily’s eyes over the curve of Naomi’s shoulder. She grins wickedly then, and Emily doesn’t need to continue to guide her hand, but she does anyway. Their fingers are tangled together when they press against her, so much so that Naomi can’t tell them apart, and she gasps, her hips bucking forward. They start a lazy rhythm together, and she moans with frustration, almost painfully on edge and needing more.

“Please,” she says, and she no longer has the wherewithal to be embarrassed by the need in her voice.

It works, because the touch becomes more focused. Fingers are slipping skillfully against her clit and it isn’t until she feels Emily shift, one hand pressing against the space between Naomi’s shoulder blades, pushing her forward, that she realizes it’s just Katie touching her now. She leans over under Emily’s less than delicate prompting, strangely fascinated by the knowledge that Katie’s fingers are on her, moving skillfully. She supports herself with a palm on the floor on either side of Katie’s head, their faces only inches apart. Katie is watching her closely and she knows her face is twisted into a combination of pleasure and frustration, and she feels oddly vulnerable knowing that Katie’s seeing it, but there’s nothing she can do about it. She whimpers as Emily’s hand trails down her spine, and her eyes widen for a split second when she reasons out Emily’s intent, and Katie seems to gasp at what she sees on Naomi’s face.

Emily’s fingers press into her from behind. Katie’s smirking up at her now, and she presses her fingers down hard and begins to move more quickly even as Emily begins to thrust into her in short, fast strokes that almost immediately drive her over the edge. She holds on desperately, not quite ready for this to end, but she can’t because it’s entirely overwhelming. The cry that erupts from her throat is raw, and she lurches forward, barely catching herself before she crushes Katie.

For a moment, she’s completely insensate. Her entire body seems to pulse with each beat of her heart. She can’t catch her breath.

It’s nearly a minute later when she shakes her head to clear away some of the fuzz. She’s between them, somehow, facing Emily though Katie is wrapped around her from behind.

“Do you understand, now?” Emily asks her. Her voice is rough but her smile is soft.

Naomi only nods.

“Good.” Emily leans forward and kisses her gently. Katie stirs behind her and makes a soft noise and Emily reaches down, twining her fingers into the hand Katie has pressed against Naomi’s belly. After a moment of hesitation, Naomi reaches down as well.


End file.
